Übermensch And Megalomania
by Nobody Else Has This Name
Summary: Grimmjow, in search of his shattered memories and struggling against the hollow within him, recruits Donald's help from another world. But when his twin sister slips into the Garganta behind them, the Bleach world is rapidly thrown into chaos! With Aizen in control of a super-charged Hogyoku and The Master pulling the strings, will Ichigo manage to save everyone in time?
1. Chapter 1: Should've Brought Pants

**Chapter One: Chasing the Cerulean Cheshire Cat**

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Grimmjow Jeagerjaques paced slowly back and forth atop a thin steel beam in the abandoned warehouse, lost deep in thought as he steadily walked back and forth, wall to wall. On the dirty ground floor beneath him, the adolescent in bright blue silk pajamas sat close against the brick walls, rather depressed. The youth beneath him bounced his head off the walls over and over again, the dull _fwump. Fwump. Fwump._ of his heavily brown haired head echoed throughout the building.

A few crates had been stacked here and there, but many were of rotting wood and were either emptied or half full of trash. Many of the crates had been moved around the room in an almost maze-like manner, some had been pushed against the wall for space, and some had been outright demolished, as if crushed by a bulldozer. And then burned.

Several times.

But what was truly eye-catching about the crates was the single intact wooden box, sitting forlornly in the center of the warehouse.

Or, more importantly, the small chunk of hollow mask sitting atop it.

The shattered fragment, if it had been observed more closely, could easily be identified as a piece from the partial mask Grimmjow wore on the side of his face. The top had been torn off, as if he'd struggled with its removal, and eventually settled for tearing half of it off.

_The hunger…_

The god awful hunger. It haunted Grimmjow. Every moment, every minute, every hour of every day. The hunger never stopped, and if not for the fact that a hole was already in his stomach, he'd have sworn it was making one. It never stopped, not for anything; Grimmjow had even tried the 'Danielle' method of staving off hunger that he had picked up whilst staying in their world. Which basically consisted of shoveling down as much food as possible, and then regretting it immediately afterwards.

Danielle was sort of a pig that way. And she'd gladly accept it if that meant getting more snacks.

It made Grimmjow shudder, how anyone (let alone someone quite as slim as Danielle Miller) could possibly eat _that_ much food in a single lifetime, let alone within a few minutes. Although he was beginning to understand the motivation behind it. If only the damned hunger would just _go away…_

"So, do I get any kind of explanation?" the boy beneath him asked. Grimmjow paused for a moment, and then continued pacing, though slightly less deep in thought. He really wasn't accustomed to spending so much time thinking.

Although Donald Miller looked rather plain (aside from the glaringly blue pajamas), his eyes displayed a fierce intelligence, a burning curiosity. Everything about him seemed contradictory; his clothing was quite relaxed in style, but his face showed a ferocious attention and cunning. He sat limply against the wall, although his posture as he continued to hit his head against the wall out of boredom showed a very strict posture. Even though he looked rather frustrated, his attitude opposed him completely. In fact, he was very excited that he had just been escorted to a brand new world through a mysterious portal, or _Garganta,_ to a place where even his perception had altered drastically. Almost like a very well animated feature.

Unfortunately, Grimmjow had expressly forbidden his departure from within the storehouse, leaving him stuck on the ground floor below.

To occupy himself, Donald had theorized the blue haired stranger's reasoning for all but kidnapping him, until he noticed that the mask fragment and Grimmjow's face and put two and two together.

_He's obviously severely distressed… perhaps if I offered glue?_ _No, no, that wouldn't work…_

After several more moments of agonizing silence, Donald finally asked "So… do you, uh, kidnap people often?"

_That came out wrong._

Grimmjow stopped pacing, one foot still mid-air as he was taking another step. He immediately dropped from the steel beam, at least twenty feet with ease. The white clothing he wore barely ruffled the air as he fell, giving the appearance of a very large droplet of rain.

_Or someone smeared toothpaste on some bathroom tissue._

Donald immediately attempted to shove his fist in his mouth in order to suppress the sudden onslaught of giggles, and struggled desperately in the process.

"… The fuck is wrong with you?"

He pried his hand away from his face, staring at it, befuddled. "I… don't usually giggle."

"Tell me about it, ya' fuckin' sourpuss."

"… Excuse me?"

"Ah, shit," Grimmjow said, palm slapping his face in aggravation. "I'm really not in the mood to explain to you what you're usually like."

"Thanks, but I know what I'm usually like already." Donald replied.

"Keep it up, smart ass," Grimmjow threatened halfheartedly, sticking his hands in his pockets and leaning against one of the empty crates. "I'll kick your ass again."

"… Again?"

Grimmjow stared at him for a second, and Donald felt as if his eyes were boring directly through him. It was very uncomfortable. So, to counter, Donald stared right back at him, opening his eyes widely.

_We must look like the world's strangest par of owl imitators ever._

And within seconds, Donald had relapsed into a fit of highly uncharacteristic giggles. It wasn't like himself at all, and that frightened him a great deal.

But, damn, the thought of Grimmjow sitting atop one of the crates, barely balancing as he crouched and flapped his arms while hooting wildly was pretty funny.

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Danielle trudged along the streets of Karakura Town drearily, positively oozing remorse.

Perhaps leaping through an open (and quickly closing) Garganta that had opened in her bathroom with nothing on but her bright pink pajamas wasn't such a great idea.

_And why am I so stupid to have gone barefoot?_ She asked herself blearily as she tried not to drag her feet on the concrete sidewalks. Many passersby gave her strange looks, though she didn't really blame them. For one, she estimated that she still had roughly an hour to an hour and a half before the sun began to set. And, secondly, she was wearing pajamas. Very bright pink pajamas, completely covered in _Hello Kitty_ faces.

… She really liked kitties.

Danielle had, for the past two hours, been trudging around Karakura Town, talking to as many people as she could about where she could possibly find her twin. And she was getting sick of explaining that, no, her twin wasn't identical and she didn't give very good descriptions.

Much to her dismay, she found that Karakura was much larger than she had previously anticipated. As such, she hadn't seen a single character from the main show _Bleach_ that she loved so very much. In spite of this, she still had a couple of last resorts. Number one being sneak into Ichigo's house and steal food from his refrigerator.

Strange; she always seemed hungry.

Number two, find one of the other main characters, wash, rinse, repeat. However, a large problem arose when she attempted to enact her oh so brilliant plan.

She didn't know where any of these people lived.

Hence, the frustrated and downtrodden trudging. Although, she had to admit, the new _Ani-Vision_, short for anime vision as she had dubbed it, was pretty cool. Seeing everything through an altered perspective. She would be quite content to simply wander around all day, looking around. If not, of course, for the fact that she was on a very important, brother finding mission.

Which was obviously not _too_ important. Again, trudging slowly.

She brushed her shoulder length black hair out of her way, strongly wishing she'd at least thought to grab a hairband on the way through the portal. Perhaps she could borrow (steal) one from Ichigo's house, should she ever find it.

Just as she was beginning to think she'd have to find a bench or bus station somewhere to spend a rather miserable night, she spotted a flash of white just ahead of a small crowd in front of her.

Her heart raced, and she promptly picked up speed.

"H- Hey!" she yelled out, waving frantically at the white clad person. She couldn't get a decent look at them through the people…

"Hold up, dammit!" she yelled, shoving through the surprised gaggle of teenagers in order to get to the person in white. Oh, how she hoped it was Grimmjow. Before she could reach said person, however, she stopped mid run, only to find that someone had grabbed her by the collar.

"Slow do – hrrk!" she exclaimed, as she was jerked roughly backwards.

"Well, whadda we got, here?" she heard, a gravelly voice greeting her as she was roughly turned on the spot. Hot, foul breath hit her in the face like a brick, assaulting her nose.

"Blech! What did you _eat_, garlic and elephant ass?" she asked without hesitation.

Once turned, she could see that the teenagers all wore matching school uniforms (of Karakura, _way_ too much gray for Danielle's tastes) and the one that was currently holding her up by the collar was quite a bit larger than the rest. He had a silver nose ring, and a spiked Mohawk atop his head.

One of the youths in the back laughed at Danielle's statement, only to find Mohawk guy's fist in his face. The younger one dropped noiselessly, and the rest of the group made no move to help him. "Don't you know it's _polite_ for ladies to say _excuse me_?" nose ring Mohawk guy reprimanded her angrily, shaking her as he did so.

Danielle didn't answer immediately. She was having difficulty deciding which of this guy's vital organs she was going to rip out first.

"So then why didn't you?" she asked in a cheerful voice.

Nose Ring's small gang fell deathly silent at the prospect of someone questioning his authority. "Bitch, what did you say?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were deaf _and_ dumb."

By now, half the gang's mouths hung open in shock. Did she have a death sentence?

Danielle, in her haste, had been counting on the heroics of, quite possibly, her favorite anime character of all time. However, seconds ticked by, and there was still no Grimmjow in sight.

_Aaaaaaany second now….._

"You know," Nose Ring growled lowly. "You got a real smart tongue on you." As he spoke, he pulled a small switchblade out of his back pocket.

"That is a terrible place for a switchblade, really. Sit down at the wrong moment, and you've just lost a perfectly good buttock." Danielle rambled (still suspended by her collar,) in an attempt to give Grimmjow more time to hurry up and save her ass. If he didn't hurry…

_Maybe if I bust the buttons on my shirt?_ It would cause her to slip loose from her pajamas and give her enough time to get away from the knife, but she'd still be left wandering Karakura shirtless. Which she had a couple of problems with, but not nearly as many as being cut.

Come to think of it, she'd begun to analyze (Donald-yze) the situation in a far calmer "GOD DAMMIT CAN I GET SOME HELP?!"

"Put the girl down."

Nose Ring Mohawk guy's head turned so quickly Danielle heard it crack. To his immediate left, without so much as a warning, clad completely in white Quincy garb, stood Uryu Ishida.

_Yay! A dramatic entrance and hero!_

The gang leader seemed immensely surprised that anyone had managed to get the jump on him. His eyes narrowed dangerously, his sweaty grip on both the switchblade and Danielle tightnening.

"Or what, four eyes? You-"

And that was all he managed to say before Uryu cut him off with a sweep of his arm. "Enough."

_Give it to 'em, hero!_

The single word was enough to silence the much larger Nose Ring, much to Danielle's pleasure. "How _dare_ you. Physically threatening the mentally handicapped?"

… _Oh, fuck you, 'hero'._

"Uh…"

"And just as my poor cousin comes to visit, her first impression of Karakura Town is nothing of violence shortly after she gets lost! _For shame, man!_"

Danielle was really hoping to see Nose Ring Mohawk guy getting his ass kicked along with his Pinhead Posse, Kurosaki style. Although, so long as it kept her from being stabbed, she supposed watching the dude go on a guilt trip worked just as well.

Not nearly as satisfying, though.

"I'm, uh… sorry about your retarded cousin, man. I didn't know-"

"Ignorance is no excuse," Uryu waved him off nonchalantly as Danielle was lowered to the ground. She couldn't really believe that actually worked. Her feet set down, and she resisted the urge to dust herself off and tip her hat in as snooty a manner as possible.

_That reminds me, I've got to get a damned hat._

"I shall be escorting my cousin from this point forward. Come along," he said to Danielle, swiftly turning on the spot and walking briskly in the other direction. Danielle, not wanting to be left behind with a severely confused group of angry teenagers, quickly caught up to him. She walked next to him for several minutes as they continued down the streets, taking multiple twists and turns. She did her best to remember locations, though.

"… So…." Danielle began. "…. Retarded cousin, huh?"

"I believe a 'thank you' is in order."

She bit back a snide remark, and begrudgingly said "Thanks… I guess. You, uh… you know those guys?"

"They are delinquents. But, yes, we attend the same educational facility."

It was odd, really. He was a rude, wordy little bastard; but in a lot of ways, he reminded her of her brother. Which was probably the only reason she hadn't punched him in the head yet.

_Retarded, my ass…_

Yet.

"So… why did you help?" she finally asked as they took yet another turn, Uryu checking the streets multiple times before taking the lead.

"Does anyone need a reason to help a lady in distress?" he answered, pushing his glasses further up his nose. The frames nestled snugly against his heavy black hair, and bright eyes shined behind them.

"Well, I really could have used a knight in shining armor, but I guess you did okay, too."

"Are you insinuating that my entrance was not dramatic enough?" he asked, offended.

"Wha- no, no, it was plent-"

"Is it the cape?" he asked, grabbing the hem and twisting it toward him to examine it closer as they walked. "It's the damned cape; I should have used the maroon inlay on the lower half of the stitches, not the upper – ah, I'll have to start a new one from scratch!"

"DUDE!" Danielle yelled, stopping him in his tracks.

Uryu stood stock still, listening intently.

"… The cape's fine. Thank you." she said breathily, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "I appreciate the help. I _really_ do. But I'm kind of in a hurry."

"Well, that much is evident." He replied immediately. "Why else would you be wandering around Karakura in your pajamas?" he eyed the _Hello Kitty_ coated (and a bit dirty) pink pajamas disdainfully.

"Well, you see, I'm looking for some - … hey." She said, scratching her head. "You said I'm your cousin that came to visit. How did you know I'm not from Karakura?"

"For one, you're _lost._"

"… Well, you got me there."

"Two, you're _clearly_ insane." He continued.

"I guess that beats retarded."

"And three," he said, holding up a third finger. Really pushing that 'mentally handicapped' shtick, wasn't he? _I can count, dammit…_

"Three… you're evidently different."

Danielle jumped in excitement as they walked, clapping her hands. "Ooh! Ooh! Lemme guess – you're detecting powerful residual spiritual energy with your Quincy abilities?"

That, however, was not something Uryu was expecting. Whereas before, he had been a bit stiff and sharp tongued, he now became very cold and guarded.

"… And what makes you say that?" he asked carefully, and Danielle noticed his opposite hand slowly sidling into his pocket.

… _Aw, fuck._

"Oh, uh, well, uh, you see… What I mean to say, Uryu, is, uh…."

"Go on," Uryu said, obviously distracting her in order to reach whatever was in his pocket.

"This is all Kurosaki's fault!" Danielle pleaded, leaning upon her rather unexpected last resort.

That seemed to satisfy some of Ishida's curiosity. Some of it.

"I see. And that's how you know my name?"

She almost said _no_, but nodded fiercely instead. No need to go giving away potentially plot destroying secrets. If she could help it, that is.

Danielle noticed that his hand was still in his pocket, evidently grasping whatever hidden (_please not a weapon_) item he had in his pocket.

"And while I'm on my top-secret uber-important quest, I kind of… need a place to stay."

"Are-"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Danielle exclaimed gleefully before he could answer properly. She hugged him tightly, squeezing him as hard as she could.

Either she underestimated her own strength, or she was in a time period where Uryu wasn't very strong yet, because she nearly crushed the life out of him.

"Hrrk! Okay; okay! Just… put me down!"

"Sorry!" Danielle gasped, dropping him. "Are you hurt?"

Uryu glared at her as he stood, dusting himself off, as if her very insinuation that a mere mortal could _possibly_ harm a Quincy had insulted him. "Only my Quincy Pride…"

"… Well, best be off then! Where do you live again?" she asked, pointing in multiple directions at once.

"Oh, yes, absolutely," Uryu said. "I'd be _thrilled_ to have your company within my abode. For a fee."

Danielle paused, and then deeply sighed.

"_STOP UNBUTTONING YOUR SHIRT!"_

"Wha-?"

"_INFORMATION! I MEANT INFORMATION!"_

"Oh," Danielle said, quickly redoing the top button on her pajama top. She did her best to conceal a grin from him, her plan working just about perfectly.

If she wasn't careful, she was going to wind up just as manipulative as Donald… well, 'old' Donald. Reinvigorated and revitalized Donald didn't really seem to have the capacity for such things. Which, for some reason, only made it more important to her to find him.

"And… what sort of information do you mean?" she asked innocently. There were very few things in the _Bleach_ universe that she _didn't _ know about. Never doubt the powers of a fangirl.

"How you really got here, for example."

_Aw, fuck._

"… I jumped through a hole," she answered, truthfully enough.

"… You… jumped through a hole." He said, a little disbelievingly.

"It's… uh, a magic hole." She said, trying very hard not to give away too much information.

"… A magic hole."

"Eeyup. A magic hole. It leads to a wonderful land, full to _bursting_ with cabbage."

"… Are… I can't tell if you're lying or not."

"No, really!" Danielle said. And, indeed, her house was surrounded by approximately one metric _fuck-ton_ of cabbage fields. "And it's how I know so much!"

"… What."

"_The cabbages talk to me."_

Uryu didn't really know what to do. Although he was glad he pinpointed her obvious madness, it was now making him very uncomfortable.

"Didn't you say Kurosaki told you-"

"Nope!" she cut him off. "Only _some_ things! I'm actually also a super _psychic spy!_" she said, rambling in an attempt to completely derail the conversation and, hopefully, ease his discomfort.

She wasn't really doing a very good job of it.

"… A psychic spy."

"_Super_ psychic spy!"

"… Okay." He said, slowly beginning to back away. She couldn't have that; she needed to prove her sanity, and fast, lest he decide that she was best left in the hands of the nice people down on the funny farm.

"You're birthday is November the sixth. You don't like your dad very much, and it was your grandfather that taught you Quincy technique," Danielle said quickly, picking up speed as she did so. "You mainly operate on 'The Pride of the Quincy', your main rationale for just about everything. You rarely use deadly force, you hate buttons and procrastination. You also have low blood pressure."

Which was clearly evident, from his rapidly paling face.

"One word you can't stand is 'haphazard', and you usually carry an extra cape on you at all times for effect, even though it has a tendency of hindering you. Pretend you don't care for Don Kanonji all you like; deep down, you love his show!"

If Uryu wasn't deeply disturbed before, he was now.

"Oh, and you're left handed."

"… Please…" he said in a low voice.

"Yes?" she asked perkily, awaiting entrance to his house, which they had recently arrived at.

"… Stay away from my home."

"Huh?" she gaped, confused.

"I don't know _how_ you know so much," Uryu said, not looking at her. "but if you so much as set foot within one hundred yards of this house… I won't hesitate to kill you."

It was Danielle's turn to be shocked. Wasn't he supposed to be one of the good guys?

"I'll give you a spare change of clothes; I'm not that cold hearted. But that is all you are to take, and you're to stay outside as I collect them for you. I don't know if they fit well, and I don't really care. Just take them, and don't come ba-"

"He's watching right now, isn't he." Danielle guessed pointedly, crossing her arms.

Uryu now began to sweat heavily, though he did his best to conceal it. Instead of answering, he simply entered his house, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Danielle couldn't see, but she was positive Uryu's father, Ryuuken Ishida, was nearby. But why would he want his father to think he wanted nothing to do with her?

_Uryu also has a thing about protecting ladies, even at great personal risk to himself…_

_Aw, fuck._

It wasn't long before Uryu returned, wordlessly placing the small bundle of clothes into her arms, and quickly turned and marched back inside. She heard a lock click into place shortly afterwards.

She sighed again, getting a good grip on the parcel. It was wrapped in brown paper, held together by a single string.

And, knowing Uryu, there was probably something useful inside. You know, aside from something that _wasn't Hello Kitty_ pajamas.

Fortunately, though, she had a backup plan. Having seen _Bleach_ enough to get a pretty good layout of Karakura Town (though obviously not good enough,) she had a decent idea of her general location. Meaning that she could make her way toward someone she was absolutely certain wouldn't deny her. And then, off to rescue Donald.

She let a small smile grow on her lips, and she set off in her new direction, clumsily gripping at the package in her arms, doing her best not to look even at all mentally handicapped as she did so.

And not doing a very good job of it.


	2. Chapter 2: Making New Friends

**Didn't mean for the second chapter to take so long… Guess who was just fortunate enough to catch the flu? T.T For a while, I wondered if I'd even bother with writing a sequel to **_**Translocation.**_** I mean, I've had some great experience with books, and I've been thinking about starting my own novel. But then I remembered, **_**holy shit I love Bleach this needs more fanfiction.**_** So, here it is; my marvelous distraction from what I **_**should**_** be doing.**

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It was a thing of beauty, really. This marvelous device, this… Breakdown Sphere.

The Hogyoku.

Sosuke Aizen pored over the crystal sphere, his deep brown eyes watching it carefully. It sat atop a small pillar, made to retract into the ground if necessary. He couldn't help but bring himself back to it, over and over again; it was almost as if the power within it needed him. _Calling _to him…

He cupped the sphere within his hands, brushing over it gently. He'd used it before to create his personal Espada army; perhaps he'd overused it? Pushed its abilities too far when it wasn't ready?

_**A nEw HoSt, PeRhApS…**_

"Do you finally speak, Hogyoku?" Aizen asked the sphere, whispering gently to it. He could almost taste the sheer power it would bring him…

_**YoU kNoW nOtHiNg. YoU ARE nOtHiNg.**_

"I am your master; you will obey me." Aizen said with complete authority, his grip on the Hogyoku tightening.

_**YoU aRe NoT tHe MaStEr. MaStEr Is EvEr WaTcHfUl. We WeRe BrOkEn – He MaDe Us WhOlE.**_

"No," Aizen corrected the sphere, slowly pacing with it. The hem of his shirt bristled for a moment, as if rustling with an electric charge. "I used you. _I_ give you purpose. You are to make me a god amongst insec-"

_**YoU aRe InSiGnIfIcAnT.**_ The sphere interrupted him, it's voice overwhelming him. He could feel it in his mind, like a bramble of thorns, deep and sharp. Aizen quickly attempted to drop the sphere, only to discover that he could not.

_**YoU aRe No GoD. YoU aRe DoOmEd To FaiL.**_

Bright, flashing images permeated his mind, flooding it. The sheer number of memories almost crushed him. This power, this… secondary force, nestled within the Hogyoku; it was dangerous.

It had him in a mental chokehold.

The edges of Aizen's vision blurred momentarily, and a surge of spiritual pressure was _sucked out of him._ The Hogyoku glowed brightly for a second, and then dulled back to its original color. Aizen, stunned, only stared at it. It was as if he were in a light brain fog. And then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

"… Hogyoku?" Aizen spoke to it, letting it tumble back and forth in his fingers before replacing it upon its pillar. It neither moved nor spoke again, and his brows furrowed in thought.

It was then that he noticed, draped ever so lightly over his shoulder, was a long, slender black hand.

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"Hnnyuuuuugh…" Danielle groaned wearily. Honestly, this was just too much walking.

Meandering all over Karakura had only managed to get her lost again. She felt quite proud of herself, really, when she re-discovered the place she had been at an hour previously; only to wind up walking in yet another circle.

She climbed a small flight of stone steps, sandaled feet slapping against them.

Danielle found, within the package that Uryu had given her, the pair of thin sandals, a plain white shirt, and a pair of white slacks. They were a little tight, but fit well enough. And it was less conspicuous than wandering around in _Hello Kitty_ pajamas.

"So… sick… of… _walking…_" she complained, steadily marching on. Her eyes kept closing blearily, and she struggled to keep them open. Night had long since fallen, and it was growing colder out quickly. She pulled the thin white T-shirt closer around her chest, hugging to herself to keep warm.

"You look tired." A small black cat said, sitting against a wooden fence perpendicular to the steps.

"Eh-yuh-huh." Danielle moaned, trudging forward. She stopped mid-step, her foot still halfway in the air. Her eyes popped open, and she whirled on the spot, facing the cat.

"You seem surp- hrrk!" the cat gurgled as Danielle jerked it up from the ground, swinging it back and forth in glee.

"Oh, my god, Yoruichi! I am so glad to see you!" Danielle squealed, the cat's head poking out from between her arms as it attempted to struggle away. It immediately stopped, though, and asked, "Have we met?"

"Hmm? Oh, no. I just think you're really cool, is all." Danielle said, setting (a slightly dizzy) Yoruichi down on the ground. The cat shook its head back and forth, trying to regain bearing. "You know," Yoruichi began. "most people introduce themselves when meeting a talking cat. But then again, you already appear to know _my_ name…" she left the end off hintingly.

"Oh, uh, well…" Danielle said, fidgeting. She tapped her fingers together nervously, struggling with herself. "You see, uh, it's… kind of hard to explain."

"How hard?"

"Like a crowbar."

"… So, no explanation for poor Yoruichi?" the cat asked, sitting balefully in front of her. If Danielle didn't know any better, she'd have sworn the cat was trying to pull off… puppy dog eyes.

And, believe it or not, it was actually working. A little.

"… You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Yoruichi stated, pouncing up and stalking away, tail twitching back and forth. "You'd be amazed at how convincing Kisuke can be. I assume-"

"Eeyup," Danielle finished, following slowly after the cat, her hands in the pockets of the white pants. "I already know him, too. Well," she paused, thinking. "I know _of_ him. Can't say I've met him either…"

Glorious, dancing visions of glomping pranced about in her head.

"Though, if there's one person I'd _have_ to explain to, I'd rather it be bucket head."

"… Bucket head?" Yoruichi asked, a small smile visibly tugging at the cat's feline lips.

Danielle grinned, hands clasped behind her head as she walked. "Oh, _come on._ That hat of his is _ridiculous._ Hot, sure, but goofy."

"So…" Danielle asked after a few minutes of silent walking. "What exactly are the odds that you _just_ so happened to be waiting there just when I needed to find someplace to stay?"

Yoruichi, without turning, merely said "I had a hunch."

"Did that hunch have a hat and clogs?"

"… Maybe."

So.

Urahara knew that someone unusual had arrived in Karakura Town ahead of time.

That was… interesting.

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Seven.

Grimmjow was up to seven hollows that he'd killed today.

He wasn't certain why, but they seemed to flock to Donald like ants to honey. They'd show up, some trying to sneak into the small warehouse (and one by just ripping a small Garganta through the air) and their first action was always to dive right for Donald. At this point, he'd begun to pace rather nervously.

Understandably. Numerous, bloodthirsty masked spirit monsters had just tried to rip him to bits.

Repeatedly.

Every time one would slip through, Grimmjow would slice directly through it with Pantera. Hell, one of them was so weak, he just punched it.

And then it _disintegrated._

Grimmjow felt quite the surge of pride after that one.

However, the fact that hollows continuously appeared periodically was becoming quite the hazard. He needed to move, and quickly…

"… Hey." Grimmjow said, jerking his head up to face the pacing Donald.

"Hmm?" Donald asked, pulling himself out of thought.

"Come on. We're goin' somewhere else."

"Very well," he agreed, not really looking forward to staying. "To yet another 'safe house', I presume?"

He could hear the sarcasm in his voice, but didn't comment. The hunger was coming back…

"Just shut up, and follow me."

"Might I suggest the usage of a makeshift bivouac, constructed out of the remainders of these crates?"

"… 'The fuck is a bivouac?"

"… Let's just continue." Donald said, following closely behind Grimmjow. The Espada silently slipped out of a rusted and heavy steel back door, the lock completely broken. The night air was quite refreshing; the warehouse, dusty and arid as it was, had begun to annoy him.

_Hungry…_

"Are you… well?" Donald asked concernedly, peering at the faint figure of Grimmjow as he quietly stalked ahead of him.

"… Fine," he said, waving him off. "Just keep breathing. I need you alive."

"Well, my cobalt captor, it would be greatly appreciated were I to know the conditions upon which I was so abruptly taken from the security of my dwelling."

"… What?"

"Why. Did. You. Take. Me." Donald said slowly, accenting thoroughly.

Yes. He was still an insufferable little shit. Grimmjow really should have expected as much.

He breathed in deeply, desperately trying not to punch the tiny bastard in the face. It might vaporize him. "Look, you little-"

"My diminutive stature has no bearing whatsoever on the situation." Donald said, noting the rather large height difference between the two.

"Talkative ass-nozzle," Grimmjow continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted. "That's on a need to know basis. And _you_ don't need to know." He jammed his hands in his pockets, stomping angrily forward.

"… I think I've already arrived at a conclusion, should my hypothesis render itself valid."

Grimmjow didn't answer, but merely sustained his pace.

"… You're dying."

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Gin wandered about the halls of Hueco Mundo reflectively, his thin grin wider than usual. His slanted eyes revealed little, although his ever watchful gaze flickered back and forth carefully. The billowing white hakama flowing around him gracefully. The throne room of the white palace was empty, save for the single figure of Sosuke Aizen, seated atop the white chair.

His head held in his hands, slouching forward, Aizen almost looked ill.

"What's tha' matter there, Sosuke?" he asked playfully, leaning against the throne behind him. "Ya' don't look so gr- _holy hell!_"

"Hnn-ynnn-hnny-hnnnng." Aizen stuttered, flowing black goop oozing out of every orifice in his face.

Gin leapt back, hand reaching for his zanpakuto. He hadn't imagined killing Aizen like this, but…

And then, as soon as it had begun, it was over. The black sludge retracted rapidly back into Aizen's face with a disgusting _sluuurch,_ and he was left looking exactly the same as he usually did.

Albeit, a little paler.

".. A-Aizen-sama?" Gin asked lowly, backing away as he did so.

Aizen stood carefully, breathing in deeply. An unnaturally large smile spread over his face his normally brown eyes tinted with a light shade of black.

"Are… you feelin' all right?" Gin asked, vastly suspicious of Aizen's apparent possession by the swamp thing.

"Positively _wonderful,_ now that you mention it," he said, a manic grin growing even larger. Disturbingly, it gave him a very demonic look, that supreme happiness.

Gin didn't like it.

Aizen leapt up from his white throne, landing deftly on his feet. He was faster – better. _Stronger._

His new ally had assured him of that; and the information he could provide him. _Oh, how VAST his mind was._

For a split second, he considered simply throwing away the Hogyoku, so great was his joy. However, he immediately brought himself under control, forcing himself to register the fact that every scrap of power he could muster would come in handy at a later date when he was crushing the world in his fist.

_**And then, the master shall be most pleased…**_

"Yes," Aizen said aloud as he made his way back to his precious Hogyoku, a fresh scheme in mind. A wonderful, miraculous, world-shattering ploy that would make every inhabitant of Hueco Mundo shudder in fear when they heard of it.

And if he felt this good _now_…

_**Then our elation shall be even greater…**_

"When we're burning Soul Society to the ground."

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**More on the way, folks! I have to say thanks to all the great long time reviewers, and even some new ones. Seriously; you guys are really the main reason for my writing in the first place.**

**Danielle: By which, it's meant that there's a serious matter of **_**massive ego**_** involved.**

**Wha- nyu-uh! I'm just doing it because…**

**Danielle: Because you're attention needy and shallow.**

**T.T WHY MUST YOU BE SO CRUEL?**


	3. Chapter 3: Rude Awakening (Again?)

**Whoo! We're back again, everyone! Sorry it took so long on the latest chapter; been really busy lately. Fortunately, that left plenty of time to come up with more useless crap to stuff into this fanfiction!**

**I'M BACK, BITCHES.**

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"Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap!"

He'd gotten soft over those three weeks with only two (technically one) hollow(s) to fight. Ichigo leapt from rooftop to rooftop, his shihakusho billowing behind him. The white masked beast bounding behind him rapidly gained ground, gnashing its teeth viciously.

The hollow in question resembled a large weasel, the hole in its chest vanishing and reappearing as great tufts of white fur flapped over it. Which wouldn't really have been a problem, were the hollow not the size of a minivan.

"Crap crap crap crap crap crap _crap!_"

Ichigo grasped the handle of Zangetsu, his eternally released zanpakuto. This had gone on long enough; the hollow had already given him several nasty cuts from its razor sharp claws, and it needed to be stopped now. Besides; he didn't feel right running from a fight. Planting his sandaled foot firmly on the rooftop, Ichigo mentally gauged the distance between the speeding hollow and his zanpakuto.

He didn't wield it like a weapon; Ichigo grasped Zangetsu as if he were merely an extension of his arm. A feeling of calm waved over him, his eyes closed.

The high pitched screech of the hollow filled the air, and the otherworldly beast hurtled itself as hard as it could at Ichigo.

Only to be sliced cleanly in half with an almost silent _schhhhick._

It looked a bit stunned, for a moment, realizing it had just been split horizontally. It's shock quickly faded, though, as it burst into a black cloud of particles. It's soul cleansed, the hollow dissipated. Ichigo stood, rubbing his sore lower back. The bastard had nicked him pretty badly; pulling his hand away, he found a bit of blood, and wiped it on his legs before re-sheathing Zangetsu. Sighing with relief, he scanned the area quickly before beginning his return home. Oddly enough, there seemed to be more hollows about than usual. He'd felt several appear for short periods of time, and then abruptly vanish. It was his best guess that Uryu was lurking about, taking care of the stragglers. He shrugged it off, and continued.

It had been a little difficult, the first day back; he'd grown accustomed to the other world's altered sense of perception, and it skewed his view of the real world. Or, at least, what he believed to be the real world. He'd been through so much insanity in the past few weeks that he wasn't quite sure _what_ was real anymore. Interdimensional vortexes, dimensional collapses, genetic reconstruction, time travelers, rabid fan girls – he needed a vacation.

After about ten minutes of thorough searching as he traveled home and finding nothing, he clambered in through his bedroom window, catching Kon (in Ichigo's body) by surprise. Kon, or the rogue mod soul that Ichigo used to inhabit his body while he completed his supernatural Soul Reaper work, was sitting at the desk in Ichigo's room, hunched over a laptop computer, typing with gusto.

"And… then… they… _fucked_… the… en-"

"What are you doing?"

Kon leapt into the air, eyes wide. His kneecaps slammed hard against the bottom of the desk, and he collapsed over to the side with a shriek of terror mingled with sharp pain.

Which was both hilarious and slightly perturbing, as Ichigo was pretty certain his body was completely incapable of producing such a high pitched noise.

Funny. But wrong.

"Don't you know better than to sneak up on someone like that?!" Kon yelled before Ichigo clasped a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. He slammed his Substitute Soul Reaper badge against his living body's forehead, the mod soul popping out forcefully from the back of his skull with a light _tink!_ as it hit the wooden floor. Ichigo sighed heavily, shifting back into his original body, already feeling the pain in his kneecaps.

_Just another pain to worry about,_ he thought wistfully. Kon was replaced into the stuffed lion, though Ichigo did so slowly. It was only a matter of time before-

"-nd you always bully me around, just because you're _bigger_ – a bigger jackass, maybe! And that's another thing – when is Rukia coming back, huh? Did you ev-"

Jesus, he hadn't even slowed his angry rant at Ichigo even when he _wasn't inside a real body._ He dropped Kon back on the floor and collapsed on his bed, facedown. He'd had enough for the day; he wasn't certain why, but he'd found that he grew exhausted much more quickly since his return. He had only been back a few days (finding that the strange Doctor with the time machine had left him at the exact same moment he'd been transported to another world,) and though his strength began to come back, something still nagged at him.

He knew there was something about the other world that made it harder for spiritual pressure to thrive. Hell, the entire time he'd been there, he'd only seen one hollow (not counting Grimmjow.) As a matter of fact, he wasn't even sure what happened to Grimmjow. He rolled over onto his side, trying to sleep, but it kept pestering him. The thought of an Espada, (whatever the hell that was,) running around with amnesia made him nervous.

_**Because you're weak, King.**_

Ichigo's eyes snapped open, and he sat bolt upright. "Shut up! I'm trying to sleep."

_**Aw, what's the matter, King?**_ Ichigo's pale inner hollow that had emerged upon his rescue of Rukia from her imprisonment in Soul Society. _**Dincha' miss me?**_

That caught Ichigo's attention. Pieces began to come together, like a puzzle. In the other world, he hadn't heard his inner hollow; as a matter of fact, he hadn't even heard Zangetsu until he returned home. Disturbingly enough, it had been Grimmjow to point it out to him.

_**You're kinda' thick, ya' know that?**_

"Quiet," Ichigo growled, scratching his orange haired head in frustration. "I'm thinking."

_**Don't go hurtin' yourself, King,**_ his nameless hollow spoke sarcastically. _**I'd just ha~a~ate to hafta take over for ya'.**_

"I said I'm trying to think!"

"Don't go hurting yourself," he heard his younger sister Karin say as she passed his bedroom door. Ichigo's eye twitched in frustration, forcing himself to keep his voice down. It wouldn't do for everyone to think he was crazy.

_I'm not crazy_…

'_**Course ya' aren't, King.**_

"Dad," Karin yelled as she descended the stairs. "Ichigo's going crazy and talking to himself again."

"Don't worry!" he heard from deeper in the house as he clutched his head in his hands with a sigh. "That's probably just schizophrenia or something! He'll get over it in a week."

"… And you dare to claim that you deserve a medical license?"

"… What medical license?"

"Damn. I need a vacation," Kon whined as he reclined on Ichigo's wooden chair. Ichigo ignored him and rolled over, trying desperately to sleep. _A vacation sounds pretty good, really…_ although he knew that wasn't likely to happen. The havoc Aizen had wreaked in Soul Society still hadn't been completely dealt with, and there was still danger abroad… He just needed to sleep on it.

He tossed and turned fitfully for a while, and had finally grown comfortable when he heard his father speaking downstairs. At this time of night, not such an unusual occurrence.

For a moment, he wondered who he was talking to, before deciding that it wasn't worth moving for and tried to go back to sleep.

When a dark figure hurled itself through the air and landed directly on top of him.

Or, more specifically, with a terrifyingly recognizable '_Squeeeee!'_

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	4. Chapter 4: Guardian Angel

**Hey, everybody! It's been way too long, wouldn't you agree?**

**I've decided against my better nature to continue on and finish this fan fiction, due to overwhelming requests.**

**And, for anyone not skilled in internet lingo, that's code for 'one person'. Regardless. Enjoy!**

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"HOLYSHITGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGE-!"

"Calm down, you idiot!" Danielle screeched from her perch atop Ichigo as he flailed in a panic.

It couldn't be possible.

It couldn't be _real_.

She was gone.

He was finally free from that fan girl; that obsessive, violent, _psychotic_ fan girl. He'd cracked; that was it. He'd just begun to crack under the strain from living the double life of a high school student and Substitute Soul Reaper, and-

"Seriously, what are you, a dying fish? Quit floppin', will ya?"

Ichigo shoved Danielle off of himself with as much force as he could muster, gasping for breath as he did so. At first, she looked a little different; the white clothes, the straight black hair. From another angle, she looked very similar to a taller, lankier Rukia.

Which was apparently Kon's first thought, as his eyes went wide as Danielle picked herself up from the wooden floor. It was strange, in Danielle's opinion, watching his eyes widen. He was technically a stuffed animal, after all.

"Y-you?" Kon stuttered. "But-but-"

"What do you want?" Ichigo asked bluntly, not bothering to ask _how_ she got into his house.

Or his dimension, for that matter.

"… You know, normally, someone offers a seat for a lady."

"Fuck you."

"You're not my type."

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Kon asked angrily from the swivel chair in front of Ichigo's desk. Ichigo and Danielle both hushed him simultaneously.

"You have thirty seconds to explain what you're doing here, or I'm calling the cops," Ichigo threatened in a shushed tone.

"Call all you like, I already asked your dad to cut the phone lines."

Ichigo paused for a moment, caught by surprise. "… Uh… Wait, what?"

"Yeah, I'm lying. He did let me in though. By the way, as far as everyone else is concerned, I'm your secret long-lost second fiancée."

"… What?"

"Also, there's a talking cat outside that's going to help me kidnap you."

"… _What?_"

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"Just… a little bit further…" Grimmjow gasped, dragging himself down the nearly deserted alleyway, save for a couple of paper flyers and a large blue dumpster.

"We should stop," Donald suggested, pulling Grimmjow's arm over his shoulder and helping him settle against the brick wall. "I think we're far enough now."

"Heh," Grimmjow let out a weak laugh as he collapsed against the wall, sinking to the dirty concrete ground. "They'll follow."

"Look, you need medical attention, post haste-" Grimmjow waved him off, wiping off the sweat pouring down his brow and breathing heavily. "I'll figure somethin' out. Right now, all that matters is making sure you keep breathing."

Donald blinked, wondering. "Why? Why did you take me from my home?"

Grimmjow struggled to his feet, but Donald hefted up a rusted pipe lying nearby the waste bin and pointed it at him. "Sit," he commanded, with much more force than he expected to. This time, it was Grimmjow's turn to be surprised. He glared angrily at him, but fell into another burst of wheezy coughing, and begrudgingly obliged.

"We're not going anywhere until I find out why my well-being is so important to you."

"So much for 'medical attention', huh?" Grimmjow laughed uneasily.

"That's not an answer."

Pausing for a moment, Grimmjow's bright blue eyebrows furrowed. "I hope you cut yourself with that."

Donald, hefting the pipe onto his shoulder, said "So much for my well-being, huh?"

Grimmjow's eye twitched, and Donald saw his hands clench. A momentary feeling of dread passed over him, remembering that just a short while ago, this same man with a hole in his stomach had punched something so hard that it _disintegrated_.

Which, by all means, was completely illogical.

"Well, _you're_ still a dick."

"What do you mean, _still_?" Donald asked curiously, his dark brown eyes narrowing. "Have we met?"

"That's on a need to know basis." Grimmjow said, waving him off.

"Good to know," Donald said, deftly turning on one foot and continuing down the alley.

"H-hey! Where do you think you're goin'?" Grimmjow wheezed in panic.

"Where do you think?" Donald said coldly over his shoulder. "To get answers." And with that, kept walking without looking back.

After a few moments of contemplation, Grimmjow forced himself to his feet. He couldn't have gone that far.

_Yep. He's still in there._

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_**Why don't you hear me?**_

It didn't take Donald long to reach the end of the alley, and before long, he heard Grimmjow hobbling along behind him.

It pained him to behave so cruelly to a person in need of help, but it was necessary if this plan was going to work. It disturbed him slightly, seeing how easily such callousness came to him. By his estimation, it was some representation of what he was like, well… before. His hand brushed up against the right side of his chest as he walked, and he listened to the double heartbeat for a couple of seconds.

_Why?_

_**Can't you hear my voice anymore?**_

What had happened to his memory? He shook his head, taking in the sights as he walked, memorizing every detail he could. A closed fruit stand here, a dimly lit pavilion there. This place was quite quaint, after rather thorough inspection.

_**For you.**_

The cold air whipped about frantically, picking up as time passed. Donald honestly had no idea where he was going, but Grimmjow kept following, so he didn't stop. There was bound to be some form of medical center near the center of town.

_**My HoSt.**_

Donald stopped, listening intently.

"… What?"

"I _said,_ my _hole!_"

He turned quickly, only to discover that Grimmjow had dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach in agony. The hole in his middle had grown, and quite considerably. His eyes widened in surprise at this new development. Donald didn't really know how to treat any potential interdimensional hole-causing diseases…

Grimmjow forced himself to breath slowly, cautiously pushing himself back to his feet. Donald quickly closed the distance between them, and helped him back to his feet. Grimmjow weakly tried to push him off, but Donald's grip was much stronger than Grimmjow's. Donald picked up on this, but didn't show any outward sign of worry. His face was like a steel mask, grim and determined. He helped him hobble along, carefully continuing down the road.

Whatever was wrong with him, it was killing him. Grimmjow eventually sagged, strength completely draining out of him and leaving him limp over Donald's arm. He was dying quickly. And Donald needed help.

Although, sometimes, fate can behave quite mysteriously.

"H-hey! Hello?" Donald shouted, now sweating nervously. It wouldn't do to have his only guide in another dimension dropping dead, especially with the multitude of masked monstrosities hunting him. "Help! Is anyone awake?"

A low hissing whispered out of the darkness, and a dark form dropped from the rooftop. From his position next to an iron light pole, Donald could make out the faint outline of a sharp, arrowhead shaped white mask.

"_It wants help, does it, yesssss?"_

"… Oh, fuck me." Donald's double hearts skipped a couple of beats, and he gently laid Grimmjow next to the light pole. He hefted the pipe he'd grabbed from the alley up, but it was quickly knocked out of his hand. Arrowhead lurched into the light, towering over Donald. It's body was spindly, black and thin, with a large hole in the center of its chest. The white bone mask drooped down as it lowered itself to eye-level with Donald, as the hollow was at least a couple of feet taller than him.

The beast opened its mouth and hissed, revealing a smaller, redder mouth with viciously sharp teeth within the mask, and Donald skidded backwards in terror. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the only weapon in sight that he could; the zanpakuto on Grimmjow's hip. He yanked it from the sheath, brandishing it in front of him awkwardly. For a moment, the hollow stopped, and it's head began shaking violently, it's hissing coming in short bursts.

Donald originally thought it was having a seizure, before he realized that it's hissing wasn't as much hissing as it was laughter.

It was mocking him.

"_Oh, it thinkssssss it sssstandsss a chansssssce, doessss i- ah!"_

Donald took his opportunity of the hollow laughing at him to swipe with as much strength as he could muster with the zanpakuto, cutting deeply into the mask. Not deeply enough, apparently, as it hurled itself directly at him, screaming in rage.

"_Santen Kesshun!"_

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**More on the way!**


	5. Chapter 5: Not So Motivating

**Let's keep this story rolling, shall we?**

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The hollow hurled itself at Donald, swiping the zanpakuto out of his hand as it did so, the sword embedding itself into the brick wall beside him. Screaming in rage and pain, it slammed into him, throwing him backwards.

Donald's vision blurred for a moment as he fell, just in time to blearily see a flash of light in front of him. He momentarily wondered if, possibly, he was seeing the fabled 'light at the end of a tunnel'.

"_Santen Kesshun!" _

Large, flat teeth crashed violently into a bright golden triangular shield, inches from Donald's face. He jerked back in shock, desperately taking in details as quickly as he could.

Someone had protected him, and with a fair deal of force; that much was certain. However, the shield wasn't very large, and flickered into nothingness as the hollow reared its head back, shrieking furiously as it was denied his kill. It's sharp eyes locked directly onto Donald's savior, who stood, feet apart and arms thrust forward, protectively over him. It looked to be a girl, though the darkness made it a little difficult to tell. From what he could see, a pair of hair clips on the sides of her head flashed brightly as she cast yet another incantation.

"Santen Kesshun! I reject!"

The yellow shield blared into existence once again, forming a protective barrier in front of the two as the hollow charged them once again, hissing angrily.

_Hurling yourself at your enemy until it dies… not a very smart technique._

The golden shield, however strong, slowly began to crack.

_Unless you happen to be ridiculously strong. Fuck._

"We need to move; now!" Donald yelled at her, struggling to get to his feet and straining his eyes to find Grimmjow. Odd – he could have sworn he was just a couple of feet away a moment ago. Instead, he searched around for the zanpakuto, however…

"Get ready to run!" the girl said determinedly to him.

"_Wait!"_ Donald replied quickly. "Keep that shield up – I have a plan."

"I… don't think…" she said through gritted teeth as she tried in vain to keep the steadily dwindling shield up in front of her as the beast rammed into it again and again.

"Don't let it down! Just… I don't know! Hang in there, or… whatever inspirational crap usually works!"

The girl blinked at him, but continued forcing energy into the shield. From what Donald could gather, this beast could speak, meaning it had some form of sentience. As to why it was so intent on killing them, he had no idea. More and more cracks appeared, slivers of the shield breaking away. By this point, another slam from the hollow would shatter it, and then…

_Come on…_

The beast screamed in glee, seeing a meal just in sight. With one final charge, it lowered its masked head and hurled itself directly at the girl who had protected him. The girl closed her eyes, bracing for the impact.

_Come on...!_

"Yo, ugly! You've got something on your face!"

Grimmjow's zanpakuto pierced the hollow's head directly from behind, jutting out through its skull. It's eyes temporarily wandered upward, confusedly, as if it couldn't comprehend what just happened.

"My _sword_!"

The zanpakuto jerked downward, splitting the monster neatly in half, and in the black haze it left behind as it dissipated, there stood Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. However, instead of fading away like the other hollows Donald had seen dealt with, the grim haze left behind by this one lingered for a moment.

"Grimmjow, are you-" Donald began, reaching out to him, before quickly lowering his hand and backing away. There was a strange glint in Grimmjow's eyes, and he sort of… _breathed_ in a way Donald had never seen him do before. The black haze was quickly pulled through the air and into Grimmjow's mouth, and he exhaled satisfactorily, as if he'd just finished a large meal.

And, in a way, he had.

"… Oh, my god." Donald breathed, coming to a realization. Grimmjow hadn't been dying of some mysterious and unheard of disease.

He was starving.

And they both just figured out what he ate.

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"And… then Uryu gave you pants."

"Uh-huh!" Danielle answered Ichigo, skipping happily down the road.

Ichigo trudged groggily behind her, groaning as he did so. According to her story she told as they walked, she slipped through a Garganta that Grimmjow had opened to allow her brother through. As to why Grimmjow was there at all boggled him, though. He was too tired to think, anyway…

"Oh, and then there was Yoruichi," Danielle said flippantly, almost as an afterthought.

"How does one forget a talking cat?" the black feline quipped conversationally, tail twitching.

"Oh, come on. We all know you're not a cat." Danielle answered as Yoruichi hopped gracefully atop a nearby wooden fence and continued marching onward.

"… I see. You still haven't answered as to how you know that."

"Because-" Ichigo began automatically.

"Up up up!" Danielle interrupted. "No spoilers." She scolded him, shaking her finger as she walked.

"She can see our world from her own." Ichigo continued defiantly, flipping her the bird as he did so.

"Well, now," the cat said, "that's… not quite what I was expecting. Nonetheless…" Yoruichi was silent for a few minutes as they walked, Danielle humming some kind of tune as she skipped.

Ichigo glared angrily at her back as they walked, and he jammed his hands in his pockets, slightly thankful they'd given him enough time to grab a pair of jeans. _It's too early to be that damn happy,_ he thought.

However, he soon saw precisely why she was so giddy.

They'd arrived stopped directly in front of an all too familiar candy shop. A light flickered on, and an even more familiar set of clogs leapt out from the doorway with far too much energy for this time of the morning.

"Well, what do we have here? Customers!"

"Aw, fuck."

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**New chapter up soon! Reviews are always welcome, and a special thanks to all those favorites out there.  
**


	6. Chapter 6: Yeah, Funny Story

**More fan fiction, anyone?**

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"And that's… pretty much it," Danielle finished lamely.

She sat at the small table in Urahara's candy shop, directly across from Kisuke Urahara himself. Her eyes continually flickered up to his hat. Those stripes were mesmerizing up close.

To her left sat Ichigo, holding his head in his hands as Danielle talked, and the relaxed shape of Yoruichi could be seen sitting across from him, back in her humanoid form. For some reason, she was wearing attire different than what Danielle would have expected.

Plain blue jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. Huh.

_I guess even anime characters have… normal days, I guess._

Urahara took another sip of his tea, breathing in deeply, his eyes shadowed by both his hat and hair as he lost himself in thought.

"Interesting, interesting…" he muttered.

"… Look, I'm not making any of this up. No shit. It might not have seemed like it here, but Ichigo really was gone for, like, a month. Ask him." Danielle proclaimed defensively, gesturing to the sleepy Ichigo. "There's more than one reason I brought Lump-Head, you know."

Ichigo groggily lifted one arm, giving her a hearty middle fingered salute.

"Come _on_, tell him!" Danielle pestered him.

"Yeah, it's all true. She's also _completely out of her mind._" Ichigo added, gritting his teeth angrily.

"Oh, I believe you, alright," Urahara said slowly. "As a matter of fact, there's… a couple of tests I'd like to run."

Danielle froze, and Ichigo picked up on this almost immediately. From the time he'd unwillingly spent with her, it was much easier for him to detect precisely what made her nervous, the number of which happened to be surprisingly few. However, she did claim to know more about Urahara than he did, which might come in handy later…

"And… what kind of _tests_, exactly, are-"

"Kisuke!" Yoruichi began dangerously.

"Oh, no, not to worry, not to worry!" Urahara cut her off with a smile, waving his hands energetically. "No poking or prodding, no pinching or prying. As a matter of fact, you won't even be in any danger at all!"

Danielle wiped her brow, a little more at ease. That was a relief.

"Well, _hardly_ any danger."

"Kisuke!"

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"And that's… pretty much it," Donald finished lamely.

The morning sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, stealthily creeping in through the windows and gradually giving Orihime Inoue's living room a slightly warmer, more comforting feel. "I think I understand…" the girl, or Orihime, as she had asked to be called, said slowly. "So, he's a hollow-" she stated, pointing to Grimmjow, who stood leaning uneasily against the wall.

"Sort of." Donald said. "From what I've gathered, many of his physical, physiological, and perhaps even psychological traits are similar, perhaps even _identical_ to these… hollows, as you name them." He scratched his head, his legs crossed Indian-style as he sat on the floor, reclining ever so slightly against her small couch. It was quite worn, though very sturdy. It smelled a little of moth balls, and… leeks, for some reason.

"Although that's not necessarily cause for great alarm. He's proven to be a worthy protector, I suppose."

Grimmjow snorted at that, and shifted uncomfortably.

"However," Donald said slyly, "he _still_ has yet to explain precisely why he took me from my home. And, by extent, placed me in _great personal danger._"

"Aw, come off it," Grimmjow waved him off. "I can handle anything that fucks with me."

"For now, maybe." Donald insisted. "But what about when something bigger comes along? Then what? You'll kill that, too? And bigger than the last, what then?" Donald continued to pry, desperation beginning to set in, but he forced it away and fought with himself, struggling to get Grimmjow to say anything that might be of use. Perhaps, by method of appealing…

"And, besides that, I don't know _why_ you thought it was so important. Haven't you solved your problem already?"

"Hmm?" Grimmjow said, cocking a bright blue eyebrow. "Oh, the hunger. Yeah, pfft. I knew about _that_. Man, I've been scarfin' down everything I could get my hands on. I just didn't know I could munch on those pitiful hollow fuckers like Happy Meals with legs."

"Then, _why_, for the love of all things holy, will you not just _tell_ me how I'm supposed to _help_ you?" Donald replied angrily.

"_Because you'll die!"_ Grimmjow screamed, shoving himself away from the wall. His hands were clenched tightly, and Donald hadn't really noticed just how heavily he was breathing. He almost seemed… worried.

… _Well, that was… unexpected._

Orihime looked more than a little uncomfortable, sitting directly between the two. "Umm…" she began, but drew quiet quickly. Donald felt a little sorry for the shy girl, watching her attempt to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

And failing miserably.

After a moment of thought, Donald sighed, readjusted his glasses, and stood up, drawing himself to his full height. Which wasn't much, but it helped.

"Explain."

One word. It was strange, for Grimmjow; he'd known this arrogant little brat for nearly a month, before Donald had been subjected to the power of the Chameleon Arch, warping his genetic code and shrouding his mind. It didn't matter what DNA he had, after all; one word is all it took, and Grimmjow could feel the sheer command behind it.

No, not just that – he felt the same thing that he himself emitted. This friendly Orihime girl in front of him, Ichigo and the others, some of the hollows…

Even Danielle.

Donald had some level of spiritual pressure, whether he was aware of it or not. And a tiny sliver of it had slipped out, carried by the single command for explanation. There was something about it, that just seemed… _off_.

Unhealthy.

_Foul_.

_**My host…**_

Grimmjow fought to catch his breath, forcing himself to calm down. _The kid has to stay alive for now… or else…_

"Look," Grimmjow began, sliding down the wall and sitting, glaring at Donald with a ferocious stare. "You probably think somethin' funny's goin' on."

"Evidently. I appear to be experiencing some form of mild amnesia, coupled with particularly… annoying mood swings and slightly enhanced mental capacity. Also, another heart. Hmm."

"I dunno about the other heart thing," Grimmjow began, eying the silent girl who sat between the two, watching them closely. "But I'm havin' a few… memory problems, too. That… thing. That thing that they put you in-"

"Who? What? When? Where?"

"Lemme finish," Grimmjow said, holding up a hand. "That thing they put you in changed you. Pushed out some kind of goop. Parasite. That's the thing that was messing with your head. 'Cept, that machine… changed you. A _lot._ Thing is, I don't think you were-"

"The only host of the parasite…" Donald finished for him. "But what do you mean by 'they'?" he asked, puzzled. Perhaps he'd finally get to the bottom of this particular mystery, as to who could have potentially forced such a grueling change upon him. Who in their right mind could have _possibly_-

Grimmjow paused for a moment, though seeing as Donald didn't seem to be undergoing any changes as of yet, he figured it couldn't hurt to tell him a little more.

"Your sister."

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**Sorry about the wait folks, been a little busy. Thanks to all the faithful readers, and there's more on the way soon!**

**Donald: Hey, hey! No! Bad! BAD author! You take your happy ass back there, and finish that chapter!**

… **Excuse me?**

**Donald: You know what! It was just getting good! Don't you**_** dare**_** walk away from that!**

**Pfft. Or what?**

**Donald: Don't **_**make**_** me get the walrus!**

… **Uh… just.**

…

**Thanks **for** the reviews.**


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